it ... (SODW)
... it had always seemed to Rincewind that if you had to go a long way away it’d be nice to stay at home while you did
it ... (SODW)
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Didn't they do something like this up in Nothingfjord? He’d heard stories. They had hot steamy baths and then ran around in the snow hitting one another with birch logs, didn’t they? Or something. There was nothing really daft that some foreigner wouldn’t do somewhere. (FE)
Death was used to travelling fast. In theory he was already everywhere, waiting for almost anything else. The fastest way to travel is to be there already. (SM)
The land between Ankh-Morpork and the Ramtops was fertile, well-cultivated, and dull, dull, dull. Travel broadens the mind. This landscape broadened the mind because the mind just flowed out from the ears like porridge. (LL)
Nanny kicked her red boots together idly.
‘Well, I suppose there’s no place like home,’ she said. ‘No,’ said Granny Weatherwax, still looking thoughtful. ‘No. There’s a billion places like home. But only one of ‘em’s where you live.’ ‘So, we’re going back?’ said Magrat. ‘Yes.’ But they went the long way, and saw the elephant. (WA) ... they say travelin broadens the mind, I reckon I could pull mine out my ears now and knot it under my chin ... (WA)
Granny Weatherwax’s approach to foreign tongues was to repeat herself loudly and slowly. (WA)
Nanny Ogg sent a number of cards home to her family, not a single one of which got back before she did. This is traditional, and happens everywhere in the universe. (WA)
Magrat unfolded a map. It was creased, damp, and the pencil had run. She pointed cautiously to a smudged area.
‘I think we’re here,’ she said. ‘My word,’ said Nanny Ogg, whose grasp of the principles of cartography was even shakier than Granny’s. ‘Amazing how we can all fit on that little bit of paper.' (WA) People who are rather more than six feet tall and nearly as broad across the shoulders often have uneventful journeys. People jump out at them from behind rocks then say things like, ‘Oh. Sorry. I thought you were someone else.' (GG)
The road, Hwel felt, had to go somewhere.
This geographical fiction has been the death of many people. Roads don’t necessarily have to go anywhere, they just have to have somewhere to start. (WS) 'I often don’t know where my Luggage is, that’s what being a tourist is all about...' (LF)
Twoflower was a tourist, the first of the species to evolve on the Disc, and fundamental to his very existence was the rock-hard belief that nothing bad could really happen to him because he was not involved; he also believed that anyone could understand anything he said provided he spoke loudly and slowly, that people were basically trustworthy, and that anything could be sorted out among men of goodwill if they just acted sensibly.
On the face of it this gave him a survival value marginally less than, say, a soap herring, but to Rincewind’s amazement it all seemed to work and the little man’s total obliviousness to all forms of danger somehow made danger so discouraged that it gave up and went away. (LF) Picturesque meant – he decided after careful observation of the scenery that inspired Twoflower to use the word – that the landscape was horribly precipitous. Quaint, when used to describe the occasional village through which they passed, meant fever-ridden and tumbledown.
Twoflower was a tourist, the first ever seen on the discworld. Tourist, Rincewind had decided, meant ‘idiot’. (COM) 'We ought to get him home as soon as possible. What’s the usual direction? “Second star to the left and straight on ‘til morning”?’
‘I think that may very probably be the stupidest piece of astronavigation ever suggested,’ said Rincewind. (LH) 'The important thing about having lots of things to remember is that you’ve got to go somewhere afterwards where you can remember them, you see? You’ve got to stop. You haven’t really been anywhere until you’ve got back home.' (LF)
'It’s not staying in the same place that’s the problem,’ said Nanny, ‘it’s not letting your mind wander.' (WA)
Little dishes of strange wobbly stuff tasting of pink turn up in nearly every meal on all aeroplanes. No one knows why. There's probably some sort of special religious reason. (Wings)
Any seasoned traveller soon learns to avoid anything wished on them as a‘regional speciality’, because all the term means is that dish is so unpleasant the people living everywhere else will bite off their own legs rather than eat it. (LC)
'And I don’t hold with all this giving things funny names so people don’t know what they’re eating,’ said Granny, determined to explore the drawbacks of international cookery to the full. ‘I like stuff that tells you plain what it is, like ... well ... Bubble and Squeak, or ... or...’
‘Spotted Dick,’ said Nanny absently. (WA) He could shout ‘help!’ in fourteen languages and scream for mercy in a further twelve. He had passed through many countries on the Disc, some of them at high speed, and during the long, lovely, boringhours when he’d worked in the Library he’d whiled away the time by reading up on all the exotic and faraway places he’d never visited. He remembered that at the time he’d sighed with relief that he’d never have to visit them. (E)
It was one of the weak spots of Granny Weatherwax’s otherwise well-developed character that she’d never bothered to get the hang of steering things. It was alien to her nature. She took the view that it was her job to move and the rest of the world to arrange itself so that she arrived at her destination. (WA)
Granny’s implicit belief that everything should get out of her way extended to other witches, very tall trees and, on
occasion, mountains. (WS) She felt the same feeling she’d felt back home. Sometimes life reaches that desperate point where the wrong thing to do has to be the right thing to do.
It doesn’t matter what direction you go. Sometimes you just have to go. (Ma) '... Death walks abroad,’ said Nijel.
‘Abroad I don’t mind, said Rincewind. '‘They’re all foreigners. It’s Death walking around here I’m not looking forward to.' (S) |
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